Cry On My Shoulder
by redbeanmochi
Summary: Arthur and Ariadne are hiding in a safe house. Ariadne has some qualms and Arthur comforts her.  Rated M for smut


**A/N: **Hello! This started out innocently enough. But now then it became a smutty lemony lemon. Yeah. This is the first smut piece I've written for Arthur and Ariadne. Well actually, this is the first piece of smut I've written. Ever. So I apologize for the terrible-ness of my description of sex. Yeah that's about it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Arthur has never seen Ariadne cry. Until now.<p>

* * *

><p>"Just take Ariadne and get the fuck out!" Hector, their extractor, shouted to Arthur.<p>

"We're not just going to leave you here," Arthur argued, shoving his shoulder against the metal door to keep the thugs in the room.

"Just do it. There's only about 5 of them. I can handle it, Arthur. _Go_," Hector demanded, his icy blue eyes glaring at Arthur.

"Fine," Arthur complied in a disgruntled tone as he grabbed the PASIV from the floor and directed Ariadne through the hallway.

"Where are we going," Ariadne whispered in that mousy tone of hers. It was the voice she used when she was afraid- soft and quiet, almost as if she would burst into tears at any given second.

"We need to get to a safe house. They've seen our faces, they'll be searching for us," he explained as they maneuvered quickly through the building.

"Oh. I'm sorry…" she muttered barely above a whisper. Ariadne didn't know if Arthur didn't hear her or if he was just too stressed to care. Either way, she decided it was for the better.

They got away with a few scratches and bruises and Arthur's only serious injury was the gash on his shoulder from where the door dug into his shoulder. They got into the car and Arthur drove quickly, looking behind his shoulder every five minutes to check if anyone was following them. They only stopped once at a convenience store to buy toiletries.

Ariadne sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. She couldn't bear to look at Arthur- she couldn't let him know that it was all her fault they were found. Watching the stars as the car zoomed through the countryside, Ariadne began to calm down. They made her feel like everything would be alright, even though she knew it would never be alright because she was a criminal for Pete's sake. Nonetheless, she tricked herself into believing it as she drifted off to sleep.

"Ariadne. Wake up," Arthur whispered, shaking her sleeping figure. Ariadne turned lazily towards him, trying to recall what had happened earlier that day (Or yesterday? She couldn't tell).

"Are we there?" she muttered, rubbing at her eyes.

"We have to leave the car behind. It's a 10 minute walk to the safe house," Arthur said, retrieving the PASIV from the backseat.

"Ariadne, come on. We need to move," Arthur barked, pulling her from her seat.

After putting up with Ariadne's dazed walking, Arthur managed to get them to the apartment in once piece. The apartment was small, but comfortable. There were two small bedrooms, one bathroom and a kitchen with a small tv set propped on the counter. There was only one window, not that it mattered. The men they were dealing with weren't too bright anyways; they wouldn't bother searching through the entire apartment complex for them and since the apartment was usually unoccupied, the landlord wouldn't recognize Ariadne or Arthur even if they were shown a picture.

Ariadne quickly changed out of her itchy suit and into a large t-shirt before falling onto the stiff bed, leaving the door of the bedroom open in case they needed to make a quick escape. She didn't want to think anymore. She just wanted everything to be over.

* * *

><p>It was 6:15 AM when Arthur woke up. He walked past Ariadne's room while on his way to the bathroom and stopped for a moment to admire the peaceful look on her sleeping face. He chuckled, noticing her sleeping antics: one pillow had been pushed off the bed and the other was being suffocated by her arms, she had pushed the covers over to the other side of the bed and her hair lay in wild tendrils over the bed. But his amusement was stopped short the moment Ariadne shifted to lay on her side to reveal that she hadn't been wearing anything under her t-shirt except a pair of blue cotton underwear. The shirt was pulled up under her breasts from her erratic sleeping patterns and when she moved her legs to wrap them around the pillow, Arthur had no choice but to retreat to the bathroom to… blow off some steam…<p>

When he opened the door, Arthur jumped at the sight of Ariadne with a confused look on her face.

"Holy… You scared the shit out of me, Ariadne," he breathed, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry… Hector called. He was roughed up a little, but he's fine now, he says. He said he'd call us when the mark's men stop searching for us," Ariadne explained, handing Arthur the phone.

If he had been paying attention, Arthur would have noticed the bright shade of pink that was brushed across Ariadne's cheeks. And if he had noticed Ariadne's blush, he would have panicked, wondering if she heard what he had been doing in the bathroom (luckily for him, she was blushing for a reason all her own). But he wasn't paying attention- he was too busy feeling dirty and guilty for what he had just done.

Arthur didn't bother paying attention to the mundane activities he took part in, in the days spent in the apartment and instead spent all his time staring at Ariadne. Of course, focusing on Ariadne proved to be quite hard, since she was actually there, sitting in front of him. Luckily enough, Ariadne was the type who often would get lost, staring into space long enough for Arthur to take in her hazel eyes or the chocolate tendrils that fell to her back or the salmon pink of her lips or the curve in her supple spine when she leaned over the counter. But sometimes, he wouldn't be so lucky.

"Arthur. Arthur! What're you staring at?" Ariadne snapped, looking behind her to see if there was anything there. There wasn't.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Just staring into space," Arthur mumbled, looking down at his slowly cooling soup.

The moments he cherished the most, however were in the morning when he walked past Ariadne's bedroom and she was still asleep. Either way, Arthur always ended up feeling like a creep and retreated to the bathroom, a bright red flustered across his face.

* * *

><p>One night, Arthur found himself lying wide awake in his bed. He tried counting sheep, singing the alphabet backwards; he even tried counting how many days they had been stuck in the safe house. But it was useless- he'd lost count. Arthur was so absorbed in staring at Ariadne all day that he'd lost just about every quality he had as a point man.<p>

His train of thought was broken abruptly, however, when Arthur heard a strangled cough from the other room. He rose from bed and padded slowly and softly towards Ariadne's room. He stood by her doorway and just barely poked his head in. Nothing was out of the ordinary- Ariadne's blanket had been thrown to the other side of the bed as always and her oversized shirt was pulled up to her stomach as it always was. But then Arthur saw it. Ariadne was crying.

"Ariadne?" he whispered, knocking on the wood of her doorway. Ariadne shot up in her bed, grabbing her blanket and pulling it up to her chest as if to cover her modesty.

"Are you… Crying?" Arthur asked her as he inched into her room.

"Yeah… But um… You know, I'm fine. I'm ok," Ariadne insisted, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"You know, if anything's wrong you can tell me, Ariadne," he told her as he stood at the edge of her bed. She stared at him for a long time before she said anything.

"Yeah, I know. I just… Uhm… You know, I…" Ariadne's voice trembled. She took a few breaths before she could speak again.

"I'm just so sorry," she cried, the tears welling up again in her eyes. Arthur moved to sit on her bed, putting one hand awkwardly on her back to comfort her.

"Hey, come on. It wasn't your fault," he whispered, rubbing her arm in a lame attempt to put his arm around her.

"It was. The mazes weren't intricate enough and the projections got to you too fast. And then the mark's men got in and I just hid and I couldn't even do anything. I just sat there," she choked.

"Ariadne, you're the most brilliant architect I've ever worked with. You've never messed up the carpet. And it's not your job to handle a gun. That's my job."

"I'm sorry about the gash on your shoulder… and your cracked ribs… I'm sorry…" Ariadne whispered, exhaling shakily.

"Ariadne. You're not listening. It's not your fault," Arthur insisted again, letting her sob against his chest as he rubbed her back.

"All my fault, my fault…" she sobbed, her voice cracking.

"Listen to me, Ariadne. This is _not_ your fault. And if you keep insisting it is, I might have to incept you. Ok? No more talk of whose fault this is. _It's not your fault_," he reassured her, cradling her face in his hands. She stared at him with large, puffy bloodshot eyes for a moment and then she did the unthinkable- she kissed him.

Arthur was caught by surprise but then he realized how soft her lips are and how warm her skin is and then nothing else mattered. One of his hands slid to the base of her neck while her hands ran through his hair. Ariadne got to her knees and all but pushed Arthur down. He fell with a slight grunt and she laughed slightly before she tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss him again.

Arthur reached one of his hands under Ariadne's oversized shirt and palmed her breast, smiling into her lips as she mewled with pleasure. He was overjoyed that they were in sleepwear and it only took seconds for him to be out of his clothes and it took Ariadne even less time to throw her shirt off and wriggle out of her panties.

"Can I…?" Arthur whispered when he lined himself up with Ariadne.

"Yes… Please, Arthur," Ariadne panted as she looped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down. When he finally pushed into her, Ariadne was wet and tight and she let out a slight cry.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, moving slower.

"N-no. It's just… Shit, shit… Bigger than I'm used to," she gasped as Arthur pressed back into her. He rested his weight on his forearms and leaned down to press open mouthed kisses to her skin as his tempo increased. Ariadne tilted her hips up to meet Arthur's strokes and wrapped her legs around his hips; letting out soft mewls and gasps all the while. Ariadne's eyes fluttered closed in the beginnings of an orgasm and Arthur knew it.

"Arthur, I… I'm…" Ariadne panted before she came with a cry, tightening around him. He kept moving inside of her, faster and faster bringing her over the edge again before he spilled inside of her.

He attempted to roll away from Ariadne, but she looped her legs around his hips and locked her legs together, keeping him in place.

"Please don't leave me alone… Not tonight," she pleaded, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. And how could he say no?

"Well you've got me all locked up here anyways, so… I'll stay. But you know, I have to get you a shirt or something. Aren't you cold?" he asked, reaching for the dress shirt he fell asleep in.

"No," Ariadne insisted before her small body shook in a shiver.

"Right. Here, wear this," Arthur laughed, pulling Ariadne up and draping her in his shirt.

"Always the gentleman," she said, rolling her eyes before she grabbed Arthur and dragged him down into bed.

Arthur slept that night better than he ever had before. He didn't seem to care that a group of powerful and threatened men were after him. He didn't care that he was stuck in a tiny apartment that was lacking in light because he was with Ariadne. And best of all, he didn't have to bother imagining Ariadne naked or make sure he woke up early enough the next morning to catch Ariadne's sleeping form because he had the real thing.


End file.
